Crossover Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Vendetta ❯ Chapter Fourteen ( Chapter 14 )

As promised, two chapters in one day. Gawd, I spoil you guys.

 

Vegeta's House, Evening

 

Goku and Usagi left after dinner. Apparently, Goku had to leave early the next morning on a mission, and wouldn't be back for over a month. Rei thanked them again for the birthday gifts as she saw them out the door, and then returned to the sitting room to inspect the books. Vegeta, as usual, sat next to her, wrapping one arm lazily around her shoulder. If he had any opinion about the gifts, he kept it to himself, and for that she was grateful

 

“I still have to give you your gift,” Vegeta whispered in her ear. When he started nibbling on her earlobe, she pulled away and glared at him.

 

“Well, where is it?” she snapped.

 

“This way,” he said. He took her hand, pulled her off the sofa, and led her out of the room. A short way down the hall, he stopped. “Wait here.”

 

She was about to protest, but he disappeared into the room and closed the door behind him. Rei huffed in indignation, but waited. When he reappeared in the hallway, she glowered at him, and he smirked back. He leaned down to kiss her, lighter than usual, running a hand through her long, silky hair. Then, he took her hand and led her into the room.

 

The room was small and sparsely furnished--three walls bare of ornamentation and the only furniture a couple of chairs. It was dark, as well. The only light came from a computer-looking screen built into one wall. Beneath it was situated a sort of control panel. The gift, hardly anything traditional, was on the monitor.

 

“Minako?” Rei gasped, moving immediately toward the screen. She glanced back at Vegeta for a moment, but he was already leaving the room, so she turned back.

 

“Hi!” Minako said brightly, waving. “Happy Birthday, I guess? I didn't really know what day it was until Vegeta told me.”

 

Rei stared dumbly at the screen for a moment. Finally, she managed to get her mouth working. “How are you? Are you okay?” she asked in a worried tone. Immediately she thought of what Vegeta had revealed.

 

“Oh, I'm fine. I assume Vegeta told you? Well, anyway, it was weird at first, but you get used to it. I don't want you and especially Usagi worrying about me, okay? I had a choice, and I still think I made the right one.”

 

“I guess...I'd probably do the same if I were in your position. It's just...the fact that you had to make that decision at all. If it weren't for pricks like Vegeta, there wouldn't be any market, and maybe we wouldn't have even been taken as slaves.”

 

“Then we probably would have been killed right off,” Minako replied, frowning at Rei. “I'd rather it be like this, knowing Usagi's alive and relatively safe. She is doing okay, right?”

 

Rei nodded, hesitantly. She sat in one of the chairs as she spoke. “I don't really trust the guy who owns her, though. He hasn't done anything, but something about him rubs me the wrong way. Vegeta says he's harmless, but...”

 

“How are things with Vegeta, anyway?” Minako said in a teasing voice, changing the subject abruptly. Rei flushed angrily. “He's pretty hot. I think you two would be great together.”

 

“That pig-headed, arrogant jerk?” Rei growled, mortified that the blond would even suggest such a thing. Minako chuckled.

 

“That's the pot calling the cattle a yak for sure,” Minako said. Rei groaned, and didn't even bother to correct her friend. It was hopeless. “Look, I know he kills people and stuff, but only because that Frieza guy forces him to. Vegeta's a saint compared to him, and infinitely more attractive.”

 

“I can't believe we're even discussing this,” Rei grumbled.

 

She spent the next few minutes explaining to Minako the bet she'd made with Vegeta, and Minako couldn't help but laugh. Other than the bet, Rei's life had been pretty monotonous for the past three months, and she summed it up easily for her friend. Minako's life over the past few months had been far from boring, and she was desperate to talk to someone about it who would understand. Unazuki didn't understand Minako's need to protect Usagi and no one else there thought prostitution was such a bad thing.

 

Rei listened, knowing Minako would need someone to talk to, but winced at a couple of the details. She told herself she really didn't want to know just how much sexier Vegeta was compared to everyone else Minako had...entertained. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, she admitted to herself that Vegeta was a very good-looking man. She could admit as much without agreeing to sleep with him, after all.

 

They talked for over an hour, catching up on three months' worth of events, until finally Minako had to leave. She had a meeting with Élodie before lunch. She made note of the time difference, and agreed to call on Rei at the next opportunity. Then she was gone, and Rei was left alone in the dark room.

 

It was getting late, and she headed to bed. Vegeta was nowhere to be seen, but she assumed he was training as usual, and would show up in her bed fairly soon. Usually, she would try to fall asleep before he joined her, but tonight she couldn't have fallen asleep even if she'd tried. She had far too much on her mind, and actually wanted to talk to him, if only for a minute.

 

She didn't have to wait long. She sensed his presence even before she heard him enter the room. He pulled off his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor as usual, much to her annoyance, and slipped into the bed. His arm immediately snaked around her waist, and he kissed her hair as he pulled her close.

 

“Thank you,” Rei whispered. He murmured unintelligibly into her hair. She turned so that she was facing him. He took that as a positive sign and kissed her properly, propping himself up on one arm and running a finger down her cheek.

 

“Am I forgiven?” he asked. He started nibbling on her ear again, and she pulled back, glaring at him.

 

“Look, I know things are different here then they were on Earth. But if you really want to have sex with me, there are certain things you just can't do. Like sleeping with other people. Or treating me like an inferior.”

 

He smirked at her. “Kakorot said humans were monogamous, but I wasn't sure if that included your Earth as well. Throughout most of the universe, monogamy only applies if you intend on having children. It provides a more stable life for the offspring, and keeps the population somewhat under control. There are, of course, exceptions. I'll stop seeing other women on the condition you wait for me.” He emphasized his statement with a kiss. “Even if you win our little bet, I want to be your first.”

 

Rei blushed. “I...I don't know if I can promise that. There isn't anyone more likely, but...”

 

“Good enough. Now, go to sleep. You'll be a bitch in the morning if you don't get enough sleep.”

 

Rei huffed and turned over again. He had obviously not taken seriously her warning about him treating her like an inferior. If that were to be the case, he could forget about having sex with her anytime in the near future, if ever.

 

Flashback, Approximately One Year Ago

 

Goku had been in space for over a year, and had gone on more missions than he cared to think about. He had the blood of billions of people on his hands, and people congratulated him on his power. It made him sick to think about it, and he did whatever possible to take his mind off the things he'd done. Vegeta had introduced him to some pretty potent alcoholic drinks early on, and he was ashamed to say he often buried his pain in a bottle.

 

After a particularly rough mission, he sat at the bar, working on his second drink. Vegeta sat next to him, not feeling the least bit bothered by the massive killings, but nursing his own drink anyway. Nappa had been there earlier, but had left in favor of gambling. The large Saiya-jin had already had several drinks, and was quite likely to lose a great deal of money, but as usual would not listen to reason.

 

As Goku finished his second drink and prepared to order a third, he and Vegeta were approached by a couple of exceptionally gorgeous women who giggled to each other behind their hands. One of them drew up next to Vegeta and started whispering in his ear. He smirked at her comments, letting one hand rest on her hip. The other looked shyly at Goku, batting her eyelashes.

 

“You look like you could use some company,” she said. Goku, clueless as ever, mumbled incoherently but didn't send her away. “What's wrong?” she asked, laying one of her small hands over his.

 

“I hate it...all the killing.”

 

“Maybe...maybe I could help you feel better?” she asked. She started running her hand up his arm. “So strong...” He jerked away, and she pouted. “Don't you like me? Am I not pretty?” Her eyes started tearing up, and Goku stumbled for something suitable to say.

 

“It's not that,” he said hurriedly. “You're very pretty, but...”

 

He heard Vegeta snort next to him, and turned to look. The other woman was kissing along his neck and was sitting in his lap. “Look, Kakorot, your woman is dead, and she isn't coming back. I don't think she'd be that offended if you got laid.”

 

The woman turned his face away from Vegeta, scowling. “Don't listen to him. Look, maybe you want to talk about it? Come with me.”

 

She took his hand and led him from the bar. She had an apartment in the same building, and brought him another drink. It wasn't quite as strong as what he'd been drinking in the bar, but he drank it anyway. She had her own drink, but only sipped it occasionally. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Goku could feel the alcohol starting to affect him.

 

“I saw you fight in the tournament a couple of weeks ago,” she said. Suddenly, she was sitting next to him, holding his hand again. “You really are very powerful.”

 

He nodded a bit, but could not bring himself to talk. Why was he in this woman's house? Who was she, and why was her hand in his lap? She kissed him softly, her lips soft and warm, and Goku felt his control slipping. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought this was probably wrong, but considering all the other horrible things he'd done in the past year, he figured this could hardly make much difference. So, he let go, kissed her back.

 

The next morning, he woke in a strange bed with a splitting headache and a woman curled up next to him. He stared at her for a moment, wondering how she'd gotten there and who exactly she was. Then, he realized what he'd done last night, and bit back the urge to scream.

 

Space

 

Makoto realized that she wasn't as ready to be a mother or mother-like figure as she had previously thought when Gohan returned for lunch and asked her about death. She would have rather answered the question “where do babies come from?” You could lie to them about that, and they'd get over it. Death was a completely different topic, and one Makoto herself had a hard enough time dealing with. Explaining it to a four-year old was hardly something she was prepared to do.

 

She placed the rest of the meal on the table and knelt down next to the little boy. She smiled and ruffled his hair.

 

“Death...death is a little like sleep, only it lasts forever. Everyone dies eventually.”

 

“Why?” Gohan asked, curious as any child.

 

“Well, if people didn't die, eventually there would be so many people that they wouldn't fit in the universe anymore. You don't have to worry about death, honey. Mostly only old people die. People even older than me or the sensei.”

 

Gohan seemed placated for the moment, suddenly a lot more interested in the food piled in front of him. Makoto forced herself to smile at him as she ate, but she couldn't help but wonder. She'd certainly never mentioned death in front of him, so he must have learned it during his morning classes. Why would they be teaching the children about death?

 

She let it go, though, thinking perhaps they children wanted to know about their parents or something. Gohan didn't seem very upset, so she would be content for now. Unfortunately, Gohan was not as finished with the subject as she hoped to be.

 

“Is it okay to make people die? Like, kill?”

 

Makoto choked on her lunch. “Honey, if you have to protect yourself, and there's absolutely nothing else you can do, then you don't have any choice. But, to just kill people because you can or because it's fun...that's wrong.”

 

“Kazi-sensei says when I get older, it'll be my job to kill people,” Gohan said. He looked so innocent, had no idea how serious the discussion was.

 

“Well, Kazi's wrong. Who is Kazi, anyway?”

 

“He teaches classes in the morning. So, I'm not supposed to kill people?”

 

“No, not unless they're trying to kill you. Finish your lunch, or we'll be late for training.”

 

 

 

 

Gohan did not say anything more about death or killing over the next few days, but Makoto couldn't help but worry. These classes he went to in the morning must have been specifically designed to create little planet-purging soldiers who thought nothing of killing. If she had the choice, she'd stop him from going to those classes, tutor him herself even though she'd never done very well in school. She certainly knew enough to teach a child to read and do simple math.

 

Unfortunately, she had no say whatsoever in their day-to-day lives. Her only responsibilities were to keep him fed and train him. His mental development was to be left entirely to the teacher of the establishment. Makoto didn't like this, and vowed to reinforce in the boy that killing was wrong, and that he should only fight to protect himself. It would probably be a losing battle, she knew, but she couldn't just not try.

 

She would casually mention things in their limited conversations about how bad killing was. During their training sessions, she started emphasizing defensive moves. She wasn't sure if Gohan was picking up on all her hints, but because subtlety had never been her strong point, she hoped the lessons were sinking in.

 

Unfortunately, the institution did not take well to her efforts.

 

After breakfast that morning, she had sent Gohan off to his lessons, and was heading down to the training field to meet the sensei. She had only learned that his name was Kenyi by freak accident after about two months of having him pummel her daily. Jakkin, the businessman who had purchased her, had interrupted their training to speak with the large man. He'd addressed her sensei by name, but she could never think of him as anything other than sensei.

 

It was, as usual, hot. The sun was already moving high into the sky, and she knew she'd be sweating in minutes. Though, given Kenyi's training style, it could be ten below zero and she'd still start sweating in a matter of minutes. Still, the training would go on, and she had learned early on not to even think about the weather.

 

Jakkin was down on the field with Kenyi, looking solemn. Makoto frowned on seeing him and started to ask a question. However, before she could open her mouth, Kenyi had hold of her arm, twisting it around behind her and forcing her to her knees. She winced, but knew better than to cry out.

 

“You will apologize,” he said, his voice as emotionless as ever.

 

“For what?” she snapped. Kenyi tightened his grip and she grimaced. She should not have talked back.

 

“You should realize that your moral input is not needed in the rearing of the child. You are to feed him and to train him and that is it,” Jakkin said, glaring at her. Makoto raised her chin and spat.

 

It probably wasn't the smartest thing she'd ever done, but she couldn't stop herself. “You enjoy turning innocent children into murderers?” she demanded. “You sick...”

 

She couldn't finish her sentence, as Kenyi applied a little force to the back of her head and shoved her face into the dirt. She began an honest struggle, thrashing out madly. However, Kenyi was larger and infinitely stronger than she was, and held her down. She quickly realized she was hurting herself more by struggling, and stopped. Kenyi let her lift her head out of the dirt, but did not remove his hand.

 

“What we do with the children is no business of yours. You will not interfere again, is that clear?”

 

Makoto nodded, though she had absolutely no intention of actually agreeing. She would simply have to be more subtle about it, and would have to tell Gohan not to reveal their conversations to anyone.

 

Kenyi let her stand and she stretched at her arm, sore from being twisted in such an odd angle. Jakkin stared at her for a moment before turning to the other man.

 

“Make sure she understands what we mean.”

 

As Jakkin turned and left the field, Kenyi followed orders. Before Makoto could put up any sort of defense, his foot connected with her midsection with more force than he had ever used before. She went flying a ways before skidding through the dirt to a stop. She could feel her right shoulder jam as she hit the ground and her face was bleeding from scraping across the dry, hard soil.

 

By some miracle she was still able to breathe, and, shakily, she got to her feet. If he were going to beat her to a bloody pulp, he'd have to work for it. She tried to raise her hands into a defensive stance, but her right arm wouldn't move. The damage to her shoulder must have been much worse than she'd thought.

 

Kenyi did not give her much chance to recover. Before she could get a shield up, he sent a ki blast at her, knocking her down again. She stood, again, slower, and was again hit with a ki blast. Each time she stood, he would hit her back down, each blast slightly more powerful than the last. Eventually, it reached a point where she could no longer even pull herself to her knees. She lay, face down in the dirt, bleeding. Her shoulder throbbed painfully, but the rest of her body seemed numb.

 

Kenyi approached her, and she wondered briefly if he would kill her. She had suffered death before, but those had all been rather quick blows. There had been pain, but nothing to this extent. He stood over her for a moment, his face expressionless. Finally he bent down and grabbed her gi, pulling her up and tossing her over his shoulder. The jerking motion caused the pain to flare up the whole right side of her body, and she resisted the urge to scream. Her vision darkened, and she let herself slip into unconsciousness.

 

House of Élodie

 

After her last client of the week left her, leaving a very large, very expensive-looking necklace, Minako let herself soak in the tub. This particular client, a homely warrior with a quiet demeanor, had already visited her twice, and seemed enamored of her. It was a little unnerving, but his gifts grew more and more generous, inching her ever closer to freedom. If he were a bit...enthusiastic and she a bit sore after, so be it.

 

She had suffered far worse patrons, as well. After all, Élodie could hardly be so selective as to only cater to handsome, kindly young men. Those types usually had no trouble finding women whom they did not have to pay. Still, for the truly hideous clients, she could close her eyes as if in pleasure and think of something less horrid. Three months, more or less, as an active prostitute had gotten her very adept at “faking it.”

 

Thankfully, with Élodie helping her pick out clients, she rarely had to worry. The businesswoman seemed fond of her, if nothing else overly amused by Minako's plea to help Unazuki.

 

Minako had, unfortunately, seen little of the redhead since they went their separate ways. According to Pacquette, who knew everything that might be considered gossip in pretty much the known universe, Unazuki was doing just fine in the kitchens, though she was very quiet. The girl Minako had known from Earth was usually a bubbly, talkative person, so Minako vowed to work as quickly as Élodie would allow.

 

Once her bath water grew cool, she reluctantly hauled herself out of the tub, dried off, and donned a light, casual kimono. She intended to spend the rest of the day lazing about, talking idly with Pacquette or, if she was willing to actually hold a conversation, Ottavia. The dark-haired girl had also opted to become a prostitute, though her feelings and motivations on the matter were still a mystery to Minako.

 

She puttered around in front of a mirror for a few minutes and then left her rooms in search of someone to talk to. Aside from working, practicing music or martial arts, or taking care of daily necessities, there was little to do. Minako had no desire to read, as Ottavia seemed fond of doing, and there were no televisions to occupy time, so Minako spent most of her time socializing.

 

Pacquette happened to be strolling in the back yard on the arm of one of her many boy-toys, and Minako decided she'd rather not disturb them. Pacquette's brain disappeared when a handsome man was in the room, and she was rendered incapable of doing anything other than nodding or smiling. Minako didn't mind so much, but wasn't really in the mood.

 

So, she chose instead to wander. She had yet to fully explore Élodie's home, which was quite large, and had nothing better to do with the rest of her day. She had not been expressly forbid from going anywhere except for the private chambers of Élodie and Pacquette without permission. Pacquette had called her welcome at any time, but was so rarely in her rooms that it made no difference.

 

She knew the wing in which she stayed was the only one that guests were shown, and had been through it several times. Instead, she headed to the opposite side of the building. She assumed the kitchen and the housing for all of the other staff would be there, and her suspicions were correct. A rather elegant hall led into the kitchen, but before she could really investigate, she was chased away by a couple of angry looking middle-aged women with wooden spoons.

 

It was pure coincidence that she wandered right into the hall containing Unazuki's room. That Unazuki was standing in her doorway, talking quietly to another girl was also a complete coincidence. Upon seeing the redhead, Minako's face lit up and she hurried over. The girl Unazuki was speaking to noticed her, made a quick goodbye, and walked away down the hall.

 

“Minako...” Unazuki gasped. Minako couldn't resist hugging the girl. “Are you...are you okay? Come in.”

 

Unazuki's room was fairly small, containing a bed, a set of drawers and a small table. It connected to a bathroom that she shared with another girl, but overall it was clean and comfortable. Minako found herself sitting on the bed, and was happy to discover that it was just as comfortable as her own bed, if smaller.

 

“So...you...you're...” Unazuki struggled to find a polite way to call Minako a prostitute.

 

“Yes,” Minako admitted softly. I know its not...the most desirable thing. But, there are things I really need to do, and I can't do them here.”

 

Unazuki looked down at the floor. “I'm glad you'll be able to get out,” she said softly. “I'll live...somehow...”

 

Minako gaped at her. “No one told you?” she asked, shocked. “Élodie said I could put some of my earnings toward your freedom. You'll get out when I do, and you can go home...”

 

“Really?” Unazuki leapt up at Minako, a hopeful look in her eyes. “You...you didn't have to...” Minako smiled at her.

 

“Don't get all guilty feeling. How could I ever go home and face your hotty brother knowing I'd left you out here?” she teased. Unazuki frowned.

 

“I hope Motoki is alright. He must be so worried.”

 

“It'll be quite a few months yet, but you'll get to see him again.”

 

If Minako had suffered any doubt about her choice, it was wiped away with the look of pure happiness radiating from Unazuki's face.

 

Frieza's Palace

 

For the time being, Zarbon seemed content not to push Hotaru into anything. He continued to spend more time with her than was required, but did not do anything drastic. Most commonly he would sit next to her as she read, letting his arm settle around her shoulders. She found his embrace warm, and would lean into him, smiling slightly and finding it harder and harder to concentrate on what she was reading.

 

He had kissed her twice after the initial incident in the garden, both times asking her permission first. She had blushed, but could not find any reason to tell him no. The initial pang of guilt she'd felt when he'd first told her how he felt was all but gone. He continued to be kind and considerate and was slowly chipping away at any reservations she might have once had.

 

To Hotaru's great embarrassment, Frieza walked in on them in the middle of one of those kisses. For a moment, she was terrified that she was breaking some sort of unspoken rule, but the tyrant had only smirked slightly. He then apologized for having to separate them, but he needed to discuss something with Zarbon. Hotaru stood dumbly, blushing furiously.

 

Knowing Frieza did not disapprove of their budding...relationship? made it seem all the more reasonable. She would never let Frieza be the deciding factor in her relationships, true, but his blessing made her feel more at ease. King Cold learned, somehow, and was absolutely thrilled at the idea. Somehow, Hotaru was less surprised about his reaction.

 

This particular morning, the two had just come inside from a brief visit to the garden. The weather was set to turn harsh again, and Hotaru wanted to explore one more time before being forced to remain indoors indefinitely. Zarbon let her hold his hand and drag him around as she delighted in the scenery. Reluctantly they returned to the warmth of the palace, Hotaru shrugging off her cloak and handing it to a servant to return it to her rooms.

 

They were heading for the library when a child barreled out of an adjacent hallway and threw herself at Zarbon.

 

“Pater! Te desideravi!”

 

The child was small, probably only two or three years old, and terribly adorable. Her green hair fell in ringlets down her back, and her golden eyes shined in pure joy as she looked up adoringly at Zarbon. The dress she wore suggested a wealthy upbringing. Zarbon immediately bent and scooped her up, kissing her cheeks and smiling despite herself.

 

“Now, Sanaa. You know you're supposed to be speaking Standard,” he said, his tone light despite the scolding.

 

“Sorry,” the child mumbled. She reached up to tug on one of his earrings.

 

“Where is your nutrix?” Zarbon asked. He shot Hotaru a quick, apologizing look before returning his attention to the child. She shrugged.

 

“I am here. Forgive me, but the child has such energy.” The speaker was a middle-aged woman with graying hair. Zarbon put the girl down and gave her a gentle push in the direction of the nanny.

 

“But I wanna stay with you!” the child whined. She stomped and crossed her arms over her chest indignantly. Zarbon knelt down to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“I have boring adult things to do. If you go with your nutrix, you can play. I'll see you at supper.”

 

He kissed her forehead, and the child went reluctantly with the woman. Zarbon stood and turned to face Hotaru.

 

“I'm sorry I didn't warn you. She got back earlier than I was expecting.”

 

“You're daughter?” Hotaru asked, nervously. She was suddenly very aware of their age difference. He nodded.

 

“Her mother died when she was only a few weeks old. I feel bad leaving her with a nursemaid all the time, but I'm always so busy, and she can't sit still long enough to sit in on meetings. She's been off planet since before we got back.”

 

“I'm sorry about her mother,” Hotaru said softly. Zarbon shook his head.

 

“No real need. It sounds terrible, but it was a bit of a mistake. Sanaa's amazing, though. I...hope she doesn't bother you...”

 

From his tone, Hotaru deduced that he was afraid she wouldn't like having to deal with another woman's child. She could see how much he adored the girl, though, and couldn't bring herself to feel jealous or upset at all.

 

“She's perfectly adorable. How old is she?”

 

“A little over two years.”

 

The conversation lulled for a moment, and Zarbon took her hand, leading her into the library. They sat next to each other on the couch. He draped an arm across her shoulders and she curled up beside him, burying her head in his shoulder. Usually, she would have reached for a book and started reading, but for now she simply wanted to cuddle. Zarbon was most willing to oblige, pulling her closer.

 

With his free hand, he ran a finger down her cheek and tilted her head so that she faced him. She could tell from the look on his face that he wanted to kiss her again, and she nodded slightly in acquiescence. He felt so warm, especially after being out in the snow. His kisses always surprised her. He was such a strong warrior, and yet could be so gentle, sending butterflies straight to her stomach.

 

By the time they broke apart, she was breathing hard, her face flushed. Somehow, she had gotten herself nearly into his lap, her arms thrown around his neck. He seemed less flustered, smiling at her and pressing soft kisses to cheeks and forehead. By the time supper rolled around, Hotaru hadn't even gotten up to get a book.